


Baby, It’s Cold Outside (but not cold enough to wear that)

by niniblack



Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-04
Updated: 2010-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine's favorite party of the year is the annual ugly Christmas sweater party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It’s Cold Outside (but not cold enough to wear that)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://jeffaplus.livejournal.com/profile)[**jeffaplus**](http://jeffaplus.livejournal.com/) for looking over this for me. Inspired by [this picture](http://i52.tinypic.com/wbyxjr.jpg) and listening to the Glee Christmas album on repeat all day.

**Title:** Baby, It’s Cold Outside (but not cold enough to wear that)  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Spoilers:** takes place after Special Education  
 **Pairings:** Kurt/Blaine  
 **Word Count:** 1,732

  
The bulletin board in the commons at Dalton Academy was always filled with brightly colored notices for parties, gigs, and extracurricular meetings. Kurt was currently trying to read one that was advertising Latin tutoring. At least, he thought it was for Latin tutoring. It was written in Latin and he thought he saw the word for tutor on there. It would have been a better advertisement if they’d written it in English, seeing as their target market didn’t understand Latin.

He tugged one of the phone numbers off the bottom. He was so far behind he was desperate.

Kurt stiffened as someone came up behind him, wrapping their arms around his waist and resting their chin on his shoulder. He turned his head a bit to find Blaine squinting at the same ad and the slip of paper in Kurt’s hand.

“You do know that’s for Latin Club, right? Where they sit around in togas and speak nothing but Latin. They make the freshmen pretend to be their slaves.”

“Kinky,” Kurt said dryly. Blaine smirked. “I thought it was tutoring,” he admitted.

Blaine let go of him to step up to the board and tug a green piece of paper down. He handed it to Kurt. “This one’s tutoring.”

It was also written in English. “Thanks.” Kurt smiled at him, tucking it into his bag.

“Ooh!” Blaine said. “Time for the Christmas party.”

“What?” Kurt looked at the ad Blaine was gesturing to. _Dalton Academy Annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party: Get on Santa’s Worst Dressed List_.

Kurt stared at the ad for what felt like a five minutes. It featured a photo of a boy wearing what had to be the single ugliest piece of clothing Kurt had ever seen (and he had seen photos of his father from the eighties). Blaine was still grinning at him. Kurt shook his head. “Oh no. Not happening.”

“What do you mean ‘not happening’?”

“I’m not going to _that_.”

Blaine looked confused. “What’s wrong with a Christmas party? Fun, games, eggnog… What’s not to love? Other than Wes, he always winds up drunk in the bathroom crying about his ex-girlfriend.”

“Ugly sweaters.”

“You’re objecting to a party because it has a dress code?”

“I don’t do ugly sweaters,” said Kurt. Blaine raised an eyebrow. Kurt narrowed his eyes, daring him to say anything.

“Oh-kay,” Blaine said. He slung an arm around Kurt’s shoulders as they headed towards the dorms. “You do realize that the Warblers perform at the party, so you’re sort of required to go, right? Plus, I need a date.”

Kurt shook his head. “Not happening.”

***

Over the next two weeks, Kurt maintained his refusal to go to the ugly sweater party. Blaine recruited the rest of the Warblers, along with random boys in the hallway, to try and convince him to attend. It didn’t work. Neither did Blaine’s best puppy-dog eyes. Kurt had unlimited reserves of strength when it came to avoiding crimes against fashion.

The night of the party, he was skyping with Mercedes, who thankfully was not questioning why he was alone in his room on a Friday night, when there was a knock on the door. Kurt told her to hang on and opened the door to find Blaine standing in the hallway with a few of the other Warblers, each wearing a more hideous sweater than the last. Blaine was winning the worst dressed competition though; he’d added a headband with fuzzy antlers to his ensemble.

Blaine grinned when he noticed where Kurt’s gaze was locked. “They’re horns! I’m horny, get it?”

“Oh, I get it. That doesn’t mean _you’re_ getting any while you’re wearing that.”

Blaine directed his very best pout at Kurt as the other guys laughed at him. Kurt crossed his arms over his chest.

“Come on, we brought you a sweater,” David said. Blaine held up a bright red sweater with a knitted snow scene along the hem and large snowflakes covering the rest of it.

Kurt’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh hell no.”

“Kurt! You have to. Everyone else is wearing one,” Blaine insisted. The other boys all nodded.

Kurt shook his head. “That only works as an excuse to get me into those awful pants that go with the uniform.”

“What’s wrong with the uniform pants?” Blaine asked, frowning as he looked down. He was wearing them at the moment.

“They’re too big,” Kurt explained. Blaine kept frowning, tugging at the leg of his pants. Kurt sighed. “Yours are fine. I just don’t like mine.” They were far too baggy and the administrators had told him no when he’d tried to order them two sizes smaller.

“Oh,” Blaine said, ignoring the bemused looks of the other boys. “Wear jeans or something then. You’ve got to wear the sweater though.”

“No.”

“Kurt,” he said, dragging out the vowel. “Come on. We have to sing carols. And drink eggnog.”

The other Warblers standing in the hall behind Blaine all nodded. “We’ll pick you up and carry you there if we have to,” Wes warned.

“You’re scrawny enough that we could manage it,” David added.

Kurt sucked in a deep breath, trying to stare holes into the sweater Blaine was still holding up. That would only make it uglier though, and they’d still force him to wear it. “I hate you all,” he spat, snatching the sweater from Blaine’s hands and spinning around the slam the door in their faces.

He could hear them laughing in the hall.

The door opened again as Blaine stuck his head in. “You are actually changing, aren’t you? You’re not going to try and lock us out? I know how to pick locks.”

“ _Yes_ , I’m changing.”

“Good,” Blaine grinned, stepping in the room and closing the door behind him. There was a ding from Kurt’s laptop and Blaine wandered over to investigate as Kurt dug through his closet trying to find shoes to go with _ugly_.

“Mercedes! How are you?”

Kurt could hear her answering, “What are you wearing?”

“We’re going to an ugly Christmas sweater party.”

“You actually got Kurt to wear an ugly Christmas sweater?”

Kurt leaned over Blaine’s shoulder, tugging the sweater away from his body. “Unfortunately,” he answered.

“It’s his color, isn’t it?” Blaine asked. He reached up and stuck a headband on Kurt’s head before he could stop him. Mercedes burst out laughing as Blaine grabbed his hands to stop Kurt from ripping it back off.

“Are those antlers?” she asked, giggling.

“Leave them on,” Blaine said, squeezing his hands. “You look cute.”

“I look like an idiot.”

“Trust me, you look cute.”

Mercedes was still laughing. Kurt narrowed his eyes at the screen. “Goodbye, Mercedes.” Her response was muffled as he snapped the laptop closed.

Blaine tugged him toward the door by the hand. “Come on. We’re gonna be late. And leave the antlers alone!”

***

After the second cup of eggnog, Kurt joined the other Warblers in a slightly slurred and clumsily choreographed rendition of Lady Gaga’s Christmas Tree. After the third, he forgot he was even wearing the antlers. Blaine went to get them both another refill and said, “Here I thought I really liked eggnog,” as he sat back down.

Kurt grinned as he raised the red plastic cup to his lips. “It’s really good.”

“I know. It’s full of rum.”

“I only had chablit, chablay... chablis before. It didn’t taste as good.”

“Really?” Blaine asked. “Maybe you shouldn’t—“ he reached for Kurt’s cup but Kurt clutched it to his chest.

“I like eggnog.”

“Okay then.”

Kurt smiled and leaned against him as he hummed along with the song that was playing. “ _Christmas with you is the best…_ ”

After a few minutes Kurt sat up straight. “Are they doing the ugly sweater contest?”

“Um,” Blaine looked over where Kurt was pointing. “I think so.”

“C’mon. Up. Up.” Kurt stood, tugging on Blaine’s hand.

“What?”

“We’re winning that contest. We are the ugliest ones here.”

“I dunno, I think we look pretty good.”

Kurt wasn’t amused. “Our sweaters are the ugliest ones here. I dunno where you found them, it must’ve been in some consignment store that collects rejects from homeless people at the north pole, but they are _ugly_ and we are going to _win_.”

“Do you even know what the prize is?”

Kurt paused. “No.”

The prize turned out to be a gift certificate to the mall to buy a decent looking sweater. Kurt shoved his way to the front of the line, pulling Blaine behind him. He reached up, straightening Blaine’s antlers. “We’re going to win this,” he said, pointing at Blaine with two fingers and then at himself. He was trying to point at their eyes, but his aim was a little off.

Blaine nodded as he tried not to laugh. “Yes sir.”

***

They lost to a boy who claimed his sweater was a picture of a Christmas tree but looked like something a cat had coughed up. Blaine patted Kurt’s back comfortingly as they stepped outside, tugging on gloves and scarves. “You have lots of nice sweaters. You didn’t really need the gift card to buy another one.”

Kurt glowered at him. “Of course I needed it.”

Blaine looked up, then grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him onto the sidewalk, spinning him around. “Look, snow!” he said, grinning.

Kurt looked up. Just a few flurries were drifting through the air, melting as soon as they touched the ground. Blaine caught his other hand and tugged him closer, leaning in to brush his lips against Kurt’s. He tasted like eggnog, which Kurt has discovered he _loved_ tonight and which was still making him feel pretty warm and silly and just a bit dizzy. Dizzy enough to wrap his arms around Blaine’s neck and lean most of his weight against him as they kissed.

“Glad you came?” Blaine asked as they broke apart, arms circling around Kurt’s waist.

Kurt nodded, smiling.

“I told you it was going to be totally awesome, didn’t I?”

“Would’ve been more awesome if we’d won.”

“So we’ll find uglier sweaters next year. And light-up antlers,” Blaine grinned, reaching up to squeeze Kurt’s headband.

Kurt was a bit horrified at the very thought of sweaters uglier than the ones they were currently wearing. “Maybe give me some eggnog _before_ the party next time.”

Blaine laughed, leaning in to kiss him again.


End file.
